‘I CAN’T IMAGINE A TIME IN WHICH I WOULDN’T FIND MY HEART LIFTING A LITTLE WHEN I WALK ONTO A CRICKET GROUND AND SEE THE GREEN TURF AND THE STUMPS IN PLACE, READY FOR THE START OF PLAY.’
Sir John Major was born on 29 March 1943, in Carshalton, Surrey, and is the former Prime Minister and Leader of the Conservative Party. He was elected MP for Huntingdon in 1979 and entered the Cabinet in 1987 as Chief Secretary to the Treasury, subsequently serving as Secretary of State for Foreign and Commonwealth Affairs and Chancellor of the Exchequer. In 1999 he was made a Companion of Honour for initiating the Northern Ireland peace process, and was appointed a Knight Companion of the Most Noble Order of the Garter by HM The Queen on St George’s Day 2005. Since leaving Parliament in 2001 Sir John has been actively involved in business and charity work.
I sink into the soft cushions of a large, brightly coloured settee, from where I look out through a wide expanse of windows on what must be one of the best panoramic views of the Thames in London. The Houses of Parliament and the London Eye are clearly visible on this crisp September morning. To my right, rows of books on the far wall are dominated by the bright yellow jackets of an impressive collection of Wisdens. To my left sits a man totally fascinated by cricket. It is time to talk about the wonderful game with Sir John Major.
It is difficult to imagine how it is possible to get so much enjoyment from cricket when, for most of your adult life, you have been unable to play it. At the age of 22, when he was working for Standard Chartered Bank in Nigeria, Sir John had a very bad car accident which ended all chance of him being able to take the field again. ‘People have occasionally seen me waving a bat around since the accident, but not seriously. I haven’t been able to play a full match because I broke my left leg in an extravagant number of places and completely smashed the kneecap. I was bedridden for nearly a year, with the constant fear of losing my leg. The fact that I didn’t is no small miracle, even though the damage inflicted meant no more cricket. But it did release me to become a spectator, which I have always enjoyed. The amount of cricket that I have played since school was therefore actually quite limited. Would I have loved to have played more? Of course I would. Do I wish I could still play, if only in village games? Of course I do. There is something very exciting about holding a new cricket ball in your hand, or a bat – it is a physical thing. So I miss it terribly, and always have, but I’m philosophical about it because I could be missing one leg. That does put things in perspective.’
Many years later, as Prime Minister during the Commonwealth Conference in Harare in 1992, Sir John did manage to play, opening the batting with Australian’s then Prime Minister, Bob Hawke. ‘Thousands of people were there, which was hugely flattering to us – except I think they had come to see Graham Hick, who was batting at number three! Bob Hawke and I went out to bat, but he kept stealing the bowling. Then after about half an hour the umpire said, “Right, off you go – time for the real cricketers.” As we walked off, I asked Bob, “Did you know we only had 10 or 12 overs?” and he said, “Oh yes – didn’t I tell you?” That was the last time I put on pads and held a bat – and the first time I had done so for many years.’
Sir John remembers playing cricket from a very early age when, as a two or three-year-old, his main inspiration was his sister, who taught him how to play cricket in the garden. ‘We lived in Worcester Park and on Saturdays and Sundays she used to take me to watch the local cricket club, which is where she may have learned about the game. My sister was in her late teens and the cricket team was full of young men, which might have had something to do with it! But to be fair to my sister, she was a great fan of the Bedser twins and had always followed their careers closely. Although she didn’t play much sport, I think she was always interested in cricket – an interest she still retains.’
When Sir John went to Cheam Common Primary School, he played cricket and football. Later, at Rutlish Grammar School in Wimbledon, it was cricket and rugby, and athletics, too. ‘I played a lot of cricket at school and Rutlish was very keen on sport. I did very little academic studies at Rutlish, and therefore had a lot to catch up on when I left school. I also needed to pass a banking degree, so I used to get up very early – before five in the morning – including weekends. In the evenings, I was playing politics. So all of that got in the way of cricket, but I played for scratch teams of one sort or another when I was in my late teens.’
As a nine-year-old, Sir John lived in Brixton, just half an hour’s walk from The Oval, where he used to spend almost every spare minute. ‘I would take sandwiches and a bottle of Tizer and watch the great Surrey team of the 1950s. I think the first game I ever saw was Surrey against Sussex, in 1952. From 1952 to 1957 – those marvellous years when Surrey won the championship every year – I spent the whole of my summer holidays at the Oval.
‘I’ve never been far away from it since, including when I was in politics. The Surrey Committee knew of my affection for the county and were always wonderfully generous hosts. In due course, I was invited to become vice president, which was a great honour. I then became the president in 2000, normally a position held for one year, but one which I held for two.’
This was the period when the new Oval was being planned and Sir John is clearly thrilled to have been so heavily involved with the great OCS stand. ‘I think it’s the best in world cricket. I spent a lot of time, with others, raising money for that stand and am so pleased we did it, because I think it’s renovated The Oval. It made the ground smaller, because we came in 20 yards, but we have increased ground capacity and provided wonderful facilities. It also gave Surrey an opportunity to make money from what is built into that stand, such as conference, seminar and entertainment suites, which produce an income during the winter. So that was my principal involvement as president.’
I suggest that it must have been quite a challenge when he was involved full time in politics, not only to go and watch as often as he wanted but simply to follow the scores. ‘All the Test grounds were very generous. They knew of my love of cricket and – given the vagaries of my diary – were always amazingly accommodating, not just towards me but to my protection team too. If I could possibly go for one day of each Test match, then I considered myself very lucky. But it wasn’t always possible. As for getting the scores, that was always easy. When I first went to the Treasury as Chief Secretary, my Private Secretary was a Surrey member and as mad on cricket as I was. Nigel Lawson, the then Chancellor, was a cricket lover from Leicestershire, and Peter Brooke, another Treasury minister, knows as much about cricket as anyone I’ve ever met. My Private Secretary arranged for a television to be permanently tuned in to the cricket during the public expenditure round, and from time to time we’d break off and watch a shot or two. So there was never any problem at the Treasury!
‘When I got to Number 10, the Cabinet Secretary was Robin Butler – a very fine cricketer whose grandfather was the great Victorian batsman, Richard Daft. Quite a few Cabinet ministers were also cricket mad, not least Ken Clarke (then Chancellor of the Exchequer), who later became President of Nottinghamshire County Cricket Club. So cricket scores were brought into Cabinet meetings on a regular basis. Initially, Michael Heseltine, who sat beside me, was rather intrigued by this routine. An expressionless Duty Clerk would enter the Cabinet Room and hand me a note. After reading it, I would show it to the Cabinet Secretary, seated on my right. I’d then throw the note across the table to the Chancellor of the Exchequer, who sat opposite me. Ken would read it, pull a face, throw it back to me and I’d tuck it into my blotting pad. Quite naturally, having seen notes pass between the Prime Minister, Cabinet Secretary and the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Michael Heseltine assumed something was happening on the markets. Eventually he was overcome by curiosity and stole a peek, only to find it said “England 52 for 1” or something like that. So cricket, for me, was always subliminal. Subordinate to politics, of course, but in politics – as in any working life – it’s vital to have other interests and even in the darkest moments, cricket – for me and for others – lifted the lid on the pressure cooker.
‘Of course, the Commonwealth leaders provided additional light relief during our meetings. When an Australian, New Zealand or Caribbean Prime Minister came to London, even if I wasn’t inclined to talk about cricket, they were. Michael Manley, the Jamaican Prime Minister, wrote a rather distinguished book on the history of West Indies cricket. The Australians, Bob Hawke and John Howard, loved the game, as did successive New Zealand Prime Ministers. So it was easy to forge close bonds, which is one of the great joys of cricket.
‘Cricket is an important part of West Indies life and tradition, so it is rather sad that it’s fading because of the American influence and the increasing attraction of basketball. It would be a great bonus to have a West Indian cricket team that was as good as the one they had a couple of decades ago – and I do hope they find their way back. There’s a natural talent in the way they play cricket, and you see that difference in the way they bat and the way they bowl. Individual nations play cricket differently, partly because of conditions, as well as physical flexibility and attitudes. If you came from Mars and saw an Englishman playing cricket, you could still tell that he plays it differently in style from a West Indian or an Indian.’
It’s hardly surprising that the five-day game is Sir John’s favourite form of cricket – a comfortable distance clear of the rest of the field. ‘For me, the Test match dwarfs everything else. I like county cricket, and the shortest form of the game, Twenty20, I watch and enjoy but I’m not avid about it. A Twenty20 game doesn’t linger in the memory. I can remember things in Test matches that I saw 50 years ago. I don’t remember what I have seen in a Twenty20 game, and that is the difference. The 50-over game is more attractive, because you can see more strategy in it. Seeing great batsmen just trying to hit everything in Twenty20 is like watching Red Rum pull a milk cart!
‘This is why it’s so important that we help cricket to endure and don’t kill it with too much of the short form of the game. It raises the money in the short term but the jewel in the crown is Test match cricket, and that should be protected at all costs. My worry is the sheer pressure for the short game that comes out of the Indian subcontinent, where so much of cricket’s money is these days. We need to be extremely careful that we don’t overcook the goose and damage Test match cricket.’
Since Sir John believes it is important to get the right decision whenever possible, he is in favour of using more technology to help umpires to do their job. ‘So often technology shows us that, however good umpires were in the past, they didn’t always make the right decision. Legend says Frank Chester was never wrong – well, legend is wrong. Sometimes technology shows things that are almost invisible to the human eye. So, if you want the right decisions, I’m in favour of technology. I think it’s going pretty well, although I think there is still a real problem with catches. I think the technology sometimes lies. When you get a catch that just hits the ground and then the hand, I think technology can mislead. But overall, I am pretty much in favour of it.’
We then turn to the worrying and recurring topics of betting, spot and match fixing, and standards in the game generally. ‘Well, there is an Anti-Corruption Unit now and I think it has to be very severe on people who taint the game. Cricket has a special social content, more perhaps than any other game, and I think when people are undermining the game in this fashion, you have to stamp it out. It looks as though the recent betting [the 2010 England v Pakistan series] was simply on two or three no balls. You may say it isn’t going to affect the game, but it taints it beyond repair. I think it is a minority of people who are doing it – how many I don’t know – but once it has been exposed, it needs dealing with pretty firmly by the authorities.
‘After all, cricket is by far the most dominant sport in India and Pakistan, and if you go to the Indian subcontinent their love of the game is self-evident. You find kids playing in the street in bare feet and everywhere there’s a bit of spare ground, you will find someone with a bat and ball. All the adulation that youngsters have for role models tends to be focused on cricketers, and to find some of them have feet of clay must be pretty devastating. That is why you must deal with the problem firmly.
‘It is obviously a key issue, but there are several other things that I don’t like. For example, I think Test match crowds are short-changed with only 88 or 90 overs a day. The over rates are often very slow, even when a spin bowler is operating, or medium-pacers without a long run-up. It is not just the fielding team; it is often the batting side as well. You often see the bowler ready to deliver the ball, but the batsmen are having a chat in the middle of the wicket. That is unfair on spectators who, by and large, pay quite a lot of money to go and see the game, and if they take their children with them it can be a very expensive day out.
‘I also don’t like sledging. Many older players say it adds a bit of spice to the game and that it doesn’t matter, but I think it depends how far it goes. Some of the sledging you hear about is pretty relentless and pretty nasty. There is a line which ought not to be crossed and sometimes it is.
‘In many ways, however, cricket has become much more entertaining. The run rate has increased – the Australians started that about 10 years ago – and now it is generally a good deal higher per over, even though the entertainment could be so much better if there were slightly more overs in the day. Other things have also improved tremendously. The fielding is infinitely better overall than when I first started watching. There were magnificent fielders then, of course – Tony Lock, for example, Micky Stewart, Stuart Surridge, all of whom I saw at The Oval, and many others beyond Surrey. But, as a general rule, the fielding, and particularly the outfielding, is probably better than ever before in the history of cricket.’
I remind Sir John that a typical example of outfielding in the 1940s or 1950s would have been Alec Bedser sticking out a size-12 boot in an attempt to stop the ball reaching the boundary. It prompts him to tell me of an occasion when he found himself sitting with Alec in the Surrey committee room. ‘Steve Harmison ran round the boundary, threw himself full length and stopped the ball going for four, and the batsmen were only able to run three. A very distinguished guest, a senior military man, was sitting beside me, and said, “That was wonderful – what commitment! And he’s going to have to bowl after tea, too.” Alec turned to him and said, “He’s a bloody fool! If he’d injured himself he couldn’t have bowled after tea.” It was a very different attitude in Alec’s day.’
When I ask about players he has particularly admired, his list seems endless, and this is from a man who does not see himself as much of a hero-worshipper. But there have clearly been some that were extra special to him. ‘Starting with batsmen, Peter May would be pre-eminent. I still think he’s the greatest post-war English batsman, and I saw quite a lot of him in the 1950s. Tom Graveney was a delight to watch, and Denis Compton, of course. And from overseas, I don’t think people quite realise how great a batsman Ricky Ponting is. When he retires, people will see him right up there in the top 10 batsmen of all time. Viv Richards was magical, as was Gordon Greenidge, and what an all-round player Richard Hadlee was. Amongst the bowlers, watching Laker and Lock in their different styles was wonderful, and Trueman at his best was a remarkable sight. The great West Indies fast bowlers were tremendous, and Lillee and Thomson were quite something. There have been some great fielders, like Derek Randall and Colin Bland – wonderful accuracy from mid-wicket or cover point, hitting the wicket time after time.’
Sir John gets great enjoyment from watching, listening to and reading about the game, and one particular favourite writer was The Times’ Johnny Woodcock. ‘I loved reading his reports. They were always of a very high standard. I also have quite an extensive cricket library, and in it is every book Jim Swanton ever wrote. Of the broadcasters, John Arlott was wonderful, but overall I think the standard is very good, and Test Match Special is unfailingly so. It’s very rare you get someone who is boring to listen to. Sometimes they are irreverent, like Brian Johnston or Jonathan Agnew, but they are very good, and it is entertainment as well as a commentary on the game. I actually think the television coverage is good too. Richie Benaud was outstanding, and people like Geoff Boycott brought a new dimension. I know quite a lot about the game from the outside, but I’ve never played it at top level so, when you listen to a Boycott or an Atherton or any one of a number of others, you get a completely different insight. They are much more technical, too – going to the dug-out, where Simon Hughes points out what’s happening. The commentaries now include how the ball is delivered, what the batsman is doing wrong. As an aficionado of cricket, I find all that absolutely fascinating. And for the young would-be cricketer, there is a huge amount to learn from listening to these former Test match players talking about the game.
‘After all, cricket is probably as entertaining today as it has ever been, and I think the quality of the cricket is generally very high. People always hark back to the past as though it were a golden age, but – as in so many things – when you see it in the round, it often wasn’t so. Many cricketers have made the point that cricket is played in the mind, but that is also true to a degree for the spectator. There are so many subtleties to the game that the real cricket lover understands, but which are a complete blank to anyone else. Every time I go to a cricket match I find it totally absorbing; it can wipe everything else out of my mind. That was always the great joy for me during my years in politics: I could go to any cricket ground, and whatever else was going on simply disappeared from my mind. The whole world narrowed to what was happening on that cricket pitch. That total absorption in the gladiatorial contest between batsman and bowler, with the fielders in attendance, just cleared the head. I was then ready to return to the fray. I can’t imagine a time in which I wouldn’t find my heart lifting a little when I walk into a cricket ground and see the green turf and the stumps in place, ready for the start of play.’
I have one last – albeit hypothetical – question to ask. Imagine that the young John Major is nearly 16 years old when the careers master says to him, ‘I have a special gift that, every so often, allows me to tell one of my pupils that there are two exceptional options open to them when they leave school. In your case, you can either be Prime Minister or you can be England captain and win the Ashes back from Australia. Which is it to be?’ Sir John’s response is immediate. ‘Well, I don’t believe in preordination, so I would have taken the Ashes and still tried to be Prime Minister!’
He has seen the question coming and is comfortably in position to deal with it, as I imagine he would have been had he been given the opportunity to score the winning Ashes runs at his beloved Oval.